


Look After Him

by CoLaLu24



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-The Final Problem, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11575938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoLaLu24/pseuds/CoLaLu24
Summary: After what Sherlock had said to Lestrade at Musgrave, the DI agreed to visit the consulting detective's brother. But everything turned out in an unexpected way.





	1. Behind The Visible

**Author's Note:**

> When I watched "The final problem" again a few weeks ago, I realised what Sherlock said to Lestrade during one of the last scenes. Almost instantly the idea for a fanfiction came to my mind :D So I started writing and finally here is the first chapter.  
> This story will have approximately 4 chapters but I'm not completely sure. I've already finished the second and half of the third.  
> I think that you can't avoid that the characters in a fanfic behave in the way you want them and so "my" Mycroft turned out to be a bit weak, but in my opinion in this story it suits him and is necessary ;)  
> [The E rating is for later chapters]
> 
> As always please note that English isn't my first language. So my apologies for any mistakes!

 

_"Make sure he’s looked after. He's not as strong as he thinks he is."_  

Lestrade remembered exactly what Sherlock had said to him that evening. The evening when they had rescued John out of the well and Mycroft out of his cell, in which he'd been locked him away by his own sister Eurus, so that he could feel what she had to endure almost her whole life. But even worse than being locked away for a few hours was that Mycroft considered it to be his fault that everything turned out in this horrible way, that innocent people died.

 

Of course he shouldn't have allowed this fatal conversation between Eurus and Moriarty five years ago. And of course not without recording it. But everybody makes mistakes. Even the great Mycroft Holmes. It’s just… _human_ to make mistakes.

 

How many times had Lestrade thought about Sherlock’s words in the last days? 12 times? 25? He didn't know.

Trying to loosen himself from these thoughts he slowly let his gaze move to the red numbers of his alarm on the bedside table. Only 5:32 am. Groaning aloud he turned around on the mattress. He'd been awake for several hours now but he was sure that he couldn't get any more rest. With a sigh he placed his feet on the floor and got up from his bed. Today would be the day on which he would do what Sherlock expected him to do.

 

While he would describe Sherlock to be a certain, very special kind of ”friend”, his relation to the older Holmes had been based on their work for most of the time. Mycroft as the ominous politician and Lestrade as the Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard. Sometimes the younger man had wanted him to look after his brother Sherlock. But basically, he didn’t know him. But who really did this except of course Sherlock?

 

Still half asleep, the detective made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. While the hot water was pattering on his body, he leaned his head onto the cold tiles. His thoughts still circled around the meeting he would have with Mycroft in the afternoon. Honestly he didn’t know what to expect from this encounter. Probably it would end rather weird with the two of them trying to start some kind of conversation.

_Besides why shouldn't Mycroft be strong enough to endure the previous events? He’s the British Government for God’s sake_. The older Holmes brother had always seemed rather mysterious to Greg - and especially this fascinated him. He couldn't deny that the cold façade of the politician, which he showed almost every moment, was strangely attracting to Greg. Many times he wondered what kind of person Mycroft was behind his mask.

 

Turning down the temperature of the running water, Lestrade felt the cold drops infiltrating his skin like countless little nails. Hopefully this would stop him from thinking about the younger man. He could no longer endure how his thoughts constantly moved to Mycroft. It was understandable that he had a strange feeling, as he definitely didn't know what he could expect from this meeting. But Lestrade couldn't avoid that he suddenly thought about things like the politician’s face and how soft his lips looked…

 

<> 

 

”Fuck,“ Lestrade muttered while hurrying down the pavement into the direction of Mycroft's house. It was fifteen minutes past 3. He was fifteen minutes too late. ”Fucking, damn traffic jams,“ the DI cursed. Normally he wouldn't care if he arrived a bit later, as fifteen minutes were almost nothing, but surely this wasn’t the best start for his meeting with Mycroft. A man for whom punctuality and accuracy were everything.

 

He would have arrived at exactly 3 o’clock if he hadn’t had to do so much paperwork till tomorrow. He'd left the police department far too late and hadn't been able to find a cab in time. And then the driver considered it to be the best way to choose the street with five construction sites.

 

When he finally reached the door, Greg’s finger slightly trembled when he pushed the doorbell. Nervously he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. After what felt like hours for him, but what were just a few seconds in reality, he heard footsteps on the inside and the clicking sound of the turning doorknob. Finally the wooden door swung open and revealed Mycroft, who looked as intimidating as always.

 

”You are late,“ Mycroft said without any greetings, unable to avoid an exasperated expression.

”I’m sorry, but I got stuck in the traffic. You know, it’s horrible especially in the earl…“ Greg started to explain, but with a demanding gesture the older Holmes indicated him that he should stop.

”Just forget about it. Now come in. I would really appreciate it when you wouldn't waste more than absolutely necessary of my precious time.“

 

Mycroft turned around and took a few steps back inside the hallway, so that Lestrade could enter the house. When he was inside, he let his gaze move around and had to swallow hard. He felt so absolutely wrong in this place. Expensive portraits on the walls, heavy wooden furniture and nowhere even the smallest piece of dirt or dust. Compared to his little flat, this place seemed like Buckingham Palace. Suddenly he wondered why he’d even decided to come here.

 

”Tea?” Mycroft asked, sounding as if he was compelled to offer his guest something to drink.

”Yes tea would be great. Thank you,“ the grey-haired man stuttered, still intimidated by the whole atmosphere and of course, by the presence of the politician.

 

Mycroft went to a table along the wall of the living room on which stood a china teapot and two cups. When he poured the auburn liquid into the white mugs, Lestrade's gaze moved from the younger man’s long pale fingers over the sleeve of his shirt to his face. The sight of him, his eyes directed down onto the teapot, his mouth slightly opened, sent a rush of warmth through Greg’s veins.

 

The older Holmes looked elegantly with his usual three-piece-suit and his smooth movements fit him perfectly. Greg wondered how the woollen fabric of the suit jacket would feel under his palms and how he opened up button after button until…

 

”Detective?“ Lestrade heard the voice of Mycroft from far away and was pulled out of his agony. ”What? Sorry, I… I just thought about something.“ With a look, that seemed like the politician had to force himself on not rolling his eyes, he made his way towards the round wooden table that dominated the room. Lestrade followed him, running a hand through his short grey hair to calm down and order his thoughts.

 

”To point out one thing, I still can’t understand what you want here. Well, obviously my dear brother thought that I would need some ’assistance’ to deal with the… unfortunate previous events. But why he thought _you_ were the right person for this is incomprehensible for me. I mean you have to deal with enough things on your own and…”

 

”Hey just stop that,“ Lestrade interrupted the older Holmes. “Yes, I came here because Sherlock is a friend of mine and he wanted me to help you. Of course I expected that it wouldn't be easy with you, but I decided that I would come. That I would come even if I have a stack of files on my desk that should be finished till tomorrow.“

 

”Easy?“ Mycroft snorted. ”Of course with a person like me it wouldn't be ’easy’. But nobody _forced_ you to come here, so feel free to go. I think you know where the exit is.“ With every word Mycroft's voice became more and more quiet. It turned from full with anger to full with resignation.

 

Confused by this sudden turn of their conversation, Lestrade rubbed his palms over his face. It seemed like Mycroft had used his offensive and mocking language just to keep everything and everyone away from him. What could he answer to the younger man? What would be appropriate? Did Mycroft Holmes actually seem desperate? If this could be possible...

 

But he had to say nothing, as the older Holmes got up from his chair and walked towards the bright window. Silently he stood there, looking up to the grey cloudy sky. Lestrade didn’t know what to do. But one thing was clear, he didn't want to just _go_. Instead he slowly made his way to join the politician in front of the window.

 

Several seconds passed in which they just stood there in complete silence. Lestrade behind Mycroft. The only sound that could be heard was the breathing of the two men.

The DI used this rare time to study the man’s features again. He let his eyes move along the silhouette of the younger man. In this moment he just wanted to put his arms around him. To give him the hold he so desperately needed, but refused to accept. But when his gaze strove over Mycroft's fingers again, he wondered how they would feel on his bare skin. How they would touch every centimetre of his body…

 

Quietly he took a few steps forwards, so that he stood next to the older Holmes. Slowly as though it happened by accident, he brushed his fingers along the soft skin of Mycroft's hand. Mycroft shivered and turned around, so that they were face to face, between them only a few centimetres. The distance between them was so small that Lestrade could hear the younger man’s breathing and the tickling feeling it left on his cheek.

 

”Mycroft…“ Greg whispered and closed the remaining space that separated him from the other man. Slowly he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer to his chest. After a few more seconds Greg carefully brushed one hand over the politician’s cheek and softly put his lips on Mycroft’s.

 

As he felt no further resistance he slowly moved his tongue into the other man’s mouth and let it circle around Mycroft's. Lestrade’s hands, which he had both again slung around the younger man’s waist, started to unbutton his waistcoat. Greg was completely drunk by the man’s scent and the feeling of his soft lips on his. He couldn't resist and moaned quietly into the politician’s mouth.

 

He had almost finished with the last button of Mycroft's waistcoat, when he abruptly stopped his movements as he realised what he was doing. Why was he kissing Mycroft? And why hadn't the man already shouted at him or thrown him out of his house? Absentmindedly he pushed the younger man away, so that Mycroft stumbled back against the glass surface of the window.

 

Shocked of what had happened Lestrade turned away to flee from Mycroft. His limbs were shaking and he had problems not to stumble over the heavy carpets and fall down onto the floor. When he finally reached the exit, he almost bumped into the closed door. With unsteady hands he turned the doorknob, jumped out on the stairs in front of the house and threw the door shut behind him, so that the sound echoed in the whole house.

 

Mycroft still stood where Lestrade had pushed him, his back pressed against the window. His lips were swollen because of Lestrade’s passionate kissing, his waistcoat still open. Irritated he wiped his fingers over his wet mouth. What had just happened? And why did it confuse him so much?

 

 


	2. Ending The Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the story continues :) Thank you all for reading it!

 

Why did he decide to kiss Mycroft? What did he think? Or did he even think at all? Probably not, as under normal circumstances he surely wouldn't have kissed him. In this moment in Mycroft's living room all his thoughts seemed to be eradicated and replaced by the one that he just wanted to put his arms around Mycroft. To show him that there was indeed somebody caring for him.

 

But when he stood so close to the older Holmes, their faces almost touching, he couldn't deny that he wanted more. That he wanted _him_. And as the younger man’s lips felt so incredibly soft and warm on his, he… _Stop!_ Lestrade thought and ruffled his hands through his short grey hair. Like he had done it so often in the last days.

 

Those thoughts were haunting him every day since the encounter with Mycroft. In every second in which he had nothing that distracted him, his thoughts faded to the other man. He desperately tried to occupy himself with work and sometimes he was successful with it, but then…

 

*Biep Biep*

 

…then most of the time something like _this_ happened.

Lestrade angrily stared on his mobile as if it was its fault that he’d received a new message. Unfortunately, Greg already expected who had sent him the sms. Who else could it be?

 

He sighed and reluctantly grabbed his phone to unlock it, to take a look at the sender. Of course. Another sms from Mycroft. The man had sent him several messages during the last few days - to be exact, beginning one day after their meeting at Mycroft's house - but Lestrade had never answered.

 

A few days later it was all even more embarrassing for him, so that he felt absolutely unable to see - or text - the other man again. Of course he read his messages, he couldn't resist and more than once he’d typed an answer, but he’d never summoned the courage to send it.

 

It was surprising enough that Mycroft texted him. _Mycroft_. Why didn't he ignore Greg after what he’d done? Why wasn’t he transferred to Africa? And the most confusing: Why did the older Holmes write that they had to talk? Lestrade definitely knew that a conversation would be necessary to clarify everything. But not now. Not when he still hadn’t ordered his own thoughts. His own… feelings.

 

<> 

 

It was around 9:17 pm when Lestrade finally left his office at the Yard. He just wanted to go home to get his well-earned sleep. He walked down the pavement, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. He didn’t want to take a cab home, as here on the streets the cold wind could distract him a little bit.

 

Cars passed by on the road next to him. Their lights slowly fading away in the distance. The DI was lost in his thoughts when a black car stopped on the street a few meters in front of him. When Greg came closer, the back-seat door was opened and a really familiar person stepped out on the sidewalk.

 

”Mycroft…“ Greg muttered, slowly walking towards the politician. Now he couldn’t escape him.

”Under the circumstances that you hadn’t answered to my messages, I decided that it would be the best to meet you in person,“ the younger man said. But to Greg’s surprise he didn’t sound exasperated or angry. He sounded like he felt unburdened that he’d finally met the DI.

”Please, let me bring you home. It is far too cold to walk around in the streets,“ Mycroft said and turned around to go back to the car.

 

Lestrade sighed. Obviously he had no other choice. And maybe he should use this opportunity to talk to the younger man. _Fate. Maybe it’s just fate…_

 

When they both sat in the back of the car, an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Both men just stared into the dark night that surrounded the car. Finally Lestrade was the first to clear his throat. ”Well… I… I could have understood when you didn’t want to meet me again. Ever again. But I can’t understand why you continue texting me… Why can’t we just forget about what happened?“

 

”Oh Gregory believe me, I really tried this. But I can’t,“ Mycroft sighed and looked out of the window, where the dark silhouettes of the buildings passed by. His last words were said so quietly that Lestrade almost hadn’t heard them.

 

”When you put your arms around me, I had a feeling I haven’t had for a very long time. I can’t describe what it was…“ the other man said and turned his head to look into Greg’s face. Into his misty brown eyes that looked so thoughtful.

”And when I felt your lips on mine… What would I do to feel that again…“ Mycroft whispered, his gaze directed into his lap.

 

Greg swallowed. Mycroft's words had sent a soft rush of warmth through his body. His fingers tingled and he felt heat spreading inside him that seemed to start at his heart. Slowly he lifted his hand and brushed one finger over Mycroft's lips. The other man shivered and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Carefully, as if he wanted to see whether the politician would move away, Greg closed the distance between them and put his mouth on the other man’s.

 

How many times did Greg think about how it would be to kiss Mycroft again? How much did he miss the feeling of the other man’s lips on his? How often did he crave to enjoy the warm feeling of the younger’s body under his palms? Even if he’d refused to accept this thoughts, when they came to his mind in the last days.

 

Without loosing the connection between their mouths, Lestrade opened up his seatbelt to move closer to the younger man. He put his arms around his neck and pulled him into his arms. But in the DI’s opinion Mycroft separated their lips far too fast. Greg carefully cupped Mycroft's face with his hands and leaned his forehead against his.

 

The politician’s trembling breath tingled on Lestrade’s cheeks and he wrapped his arms around him even stronger. ”Gregory…“ Mycroft murmured, while softly brushing his long fingers over the DI’s cloth covered arms.

 

”As I hadn’t received a response from you, I thought that _you_ didn’t want to see me ever again. That you considered what happened to be a… mistake,“ Mycroft whispered.

”I… Well, actually I don’t know what I thought. That you would send me to Timbuktu maybe,“ Lestrade said. On Mycroft’s face appeared a shy smile that made the DI’s heart melt within seconds.

 

”Oh Mycroft. I was far too afraid to text you. I had no idea what I could say to you. That when I saw you standing in front of your window, I just wanted to pull you into my arms? But that I don’t know why? That I have no idea what’s going on with my feelings? My feelings for… you?“

 

The younger man slowly grabbed one of Lestrade's hands and folded his fingers with his. ”For example,“ he said and couldn't suppress a light chuckle, obviously relieved because of Greg’s answer.

”Do you think this is funny?“ Lestrade said, a smile curling around the corners of his mouth, as he tried to stay serious. When did he hear Mycroft Holmes chuckle for the last time? Has Greg even heard him chuckle before?

 

Greg looked into Mycroft's light blue eyes again. ”I definitely would want this _profound_ conversation to go on, but I think we reached my flat.“

They almost hadn’t realised that the car had stopped, in front of Lestrade's apartment. Mycroft nodded and the slight smile that a few moments before had covered his face and that made Lestrade's heart race faster, disappeared.

”Hey. I’ll text you. This time I really will,“ Greg said, his voice full with honesty. Mycroft nodded and grabbed the DI’s hand to press it. ”Good Night Gregory,“ he murmured. For one last time Lestrade brushed his lips over the other man’s, then he slowly loosened himself from the older Holmes and reached for the door. ”Good Night Mycroft,“ he said, while stepping out into the cold night, he had almost forgotten about.

 

He could have asked the younger man to come with him into his flat, but he didn’t want to ask. Their ”relationship“, as far as it could be described as this, was something special. Something he wouldn't want to destroy before it even existed. Mycroft was definitely more important to him, than he would have expected. In the car on their way to his home, he had finally realised that.


	3. So Much Left To Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally here it is :) Enjoy!  
> [Actually the chapter title is inspired by a song of the band Imagine Dragons :D]

 

Fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes Mycroft would arrive. Greg nervously strode through his flat. He had used the last few hours to clean up everything, as he normally didn't pay much attention to the state of his apartment. But for Mycroft he wanted it to be ordered. Ordered like the politician.

 

So the DI checked again whether he had thrown away every empty beer bottle and every pizza box. If he had placed the cutlery on the table in the right order. But for him the most important question of all was: Why was he so nervous?

 

After his encounter with Mycroft and the talk they had in the car a few days later, he had kept his promise and had texted the younger man on the next day. He had proposed that they could have dinner together. But he wanted that it was just the two of them. That they were not disturbed by other people. For Lestrade this seemed to be the better option. So he’d asked Mycroft if he would come to his flat.

 

Mycroft had replied almost instantaneously. As if he had waited with his phone in hand for a message of the DI. And the result was that Greg was now preparing everything for his arrival. Just a few moments after his proposal that he would be pleased if the younger man would come to him for dinner, he wondered what came over him to invite him to his apartment. But the atmosphere there seemed to be better than in a restaurant or… in Mycroft's house. Lestrade shuddered as his thoughts trailed back to how their meeting in the older Holmes’ home had ended.

 

Lestrade slightly winced as the sound of the doorbell broke the silence in his small flat and pulled him out of his agony. _Now._

He walked towards the door, checking his outlook in the mirror in the hallway for one last time. He had decided to wear one of his white shirts and a pair of black trousers. Something simple, but elegant.

 

He moved one hand through his grey hair, as it was almost the only thing he could do style it a little bit. And honestly he liked it if his hair looked a bit ruffled. Then he felt younger. He felt _sexy_. He felt _ready_ to face the older Holmes.

 

When he pressed down the handle and the entrance swung open completely, in front of him in the staircase stood Mycroft. He was dressed as always in one of his perfect fitting three-piece-suits. But today Greg didn’t feel intimidated by his presence. Not at all. This unusual impression was also intensified by the small smile that appeared on the politician's face, when he saw Lestrade.

 

The DI’s mouth turned into a smile as well and he couldn't help himself, as he had to take a deep breath at the sight of the younger man. His trousers, which fit tightly along his slender legs. His perfect white shirt. And when Lestrade's gaze moved to his waistcoat, he had the same desires like in Mycroft’s house. That he just wanted to open up button after button until the younger man’s porcelain skin would be revealed.

 

Lestrade smirked at his thoughts and slowly pulled Mycroft into a soft hug. At first the younger man stiffened, but then he lifted his arms and put them around Greg’s hips.

 

”Good evening Gregory,“ he whispered into the other man’s ear. The politician’s warm breath tingled on Lestrade's skin and made him shiver.

”Hello Mycroft,“ the older man murmured and guided them both into the hallway, where they separated.

 

”Well, then welcome to my small home. I mean of course it is nothing compared to your place…“

Greg couldn't finish his sentence, as he was interrupted by a soft gesture of Mycroft. ”I’m just happy to be here with you,“ he said and on his face appeared the smile again, that made Lestrade’s heart melt within seconds.

 

When they arrived at the living room, Greg asked Mycroft to take a seat at the table and went over to the kitchen to grab something to drink for them. He had bought a bottle of wine especially for this evening, as he was sure that Mycroft would appreciate it.

 

He poured the red liquid into their glasses and handed one to the younger man. The politician’s long fingers closed around the stem and he slowly let the wine circle around in the glass. Lestrade's gaze rested on the younger’s hand for a few moments. Mycroft realised the DI’s look and couldn't help but smirk.

 

”I can’t describe in words, how happy I am that you are here with me,“ Greg said while lifting his own glass.

”I can’t do so either,“ the younger man murmured, while looking deep into Lestrade's brown eyes.

 

”I’ve cooked Shepherd’s Pie. I hope that’s ok for you and you’ll enjoy it,“ Lestrade said and got up from his chair. He felt the politician's eyes resting on his back, when he went into the kitchen to put the food on their plates.

”It definitely is more than okay,“ Mycroft murmured. Greg couldn't prevent that a naughty smile appeared on his face, as he thought about the slight ambiguity of his words.

 

\- - -

 

At first, they both ate their meal in silence. Only the clattering of the cutlery and the sound of glasses that were put on the wooden surface of the table could be heard.

”And you moved into this flat after you got divorced?“ Mycroft finally tried to start a conversation.

 

”Well, yes. So I’ve been living here on my own for quite a while now. Urgh my divorce is an ugly story,“ Lestrade shuddered. ”To put it in a nutshell, my wife cheated on me and now I’m here. But I think you’ve already known that.“

”Yes you’re right,“ the younger man murmured, feeling a bit embarrassed. ”But I wanted to hear it from you.“

 

They continued eating. Both of the men seemed to dwell on their own thoughts. The DI wondered about Mycroft’s experience with relationships. Has he ever been in one? Surely he had. But not now of course. Did he even have the time for a partner with his job that required him almost every time?

 

After taking a deep breath, Lestrade summoned the courage to ask the younger man. ”Now that you know ’first hand’ what I’ve experienced, you can tell me about your previous relationships.“

”Actually there isn’t something significant to be told. In my position there is just not enough room for anything that involves a partner.“

”But… You’ve been in a relationship before?“ Lestrade asked curiously. It seemed not to be possible that the kiss in Mycroft's house was the man’s first.

 

”Well, yes I have been. But a certain amount of time passed since then. There were more important things to be handled. Despite the fact that some turned out in an… inconvenient way,“ the older Holmes said and straightened his back. Now he seemed like the cold and unapproachable politician that he was most of the time. His _real_ feelings were hidden behind his mask again.

 

If Mycroft didn’t want to talk about what had happened, it would be fine for Greg. He wouldn’t want to force him to do something he might not want to do. He didn't want that he had to hide himself _again_.

”Gregory, I hope it’s all right for you if I spare you from further details. I have no intention of ruining our evening.“

”You wouldn't ruin anything. But yes, let us focus on the here and now,“ the DI said. Mycroft’s tensed shoulders relaxed a little bit and the turquoise colour of his eyes, of which Lestrade thought that he could look into all day, became lighter.

 

<> 

 

”I have to repeat that this really was delicious Gregory,“ Mycroft said and put his cutlery on his empty plate.

”Thank you. Of course it can’t compete with the food they serve in your favourite restaurants I guess.“

”Don’t underestimate yourself. But I think you could have cooked whatever you wanted. With your company everything would be enjoyable,“ Mycroft murmured.

 

Lestrade smirked. ”Would you like to have some whiskey maybe? I’ve got an excellent one that I wanted to spare for a special occasion.“

”Sounds enticing.“

”We could sit on the couch, as it would be more comfortable I think,“ the DI said and pointed to the other side of the room, where his black couch was placed.

 

When they both sat down on the sofa with their glasses in hand, Lestrade leaned his head back against the cushions. He closed his eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. When he opened them a few millimetres, so that he could see what Mycroft was doing, he could see and literally _feel_ that the younger man was looking at him. That he scanned every centimetre of his face.

 

”Enjoy what you see?“ the DI said with a mischievous smile, while he opened his eyes completely. Mycroft seemed to feel caught and directed his gaze into his lap to pretend that he studied his fingers.

”Hey, I didn’t want to offend you. I just thought, as you’d already watched me previously…“ Lestrade said and lifted the younger man’s chin with one hand, so that he had to watch his face.

 

”No that’s not…“ the politician stuttered. Did Mycroft Holmes actually seem to have problems finding the right words? Lestrade almost couldn't believe it. The man who basically ruled the country at a lack of words because of… _him_?

 

”It’s just that this whole situation,“ Mycroft made a gesture with the hand that wasn’t occupied with holding his glass, “Is something I’m not used to.“

”What do you mean with ’this situation’? The two of us sitting together on my sofa after enjoying dinner? That I hugged you at the door? That I… kissed you again last week?“ Lestrade asked while knitting his brow.

 

”To be honest, it’s all of what you’ve mentioned. I don’t know how to deal with it… with my feelings. Feelings are something, I normally don’t allow in my life. But they are undeniable there and I can no longer suppress them. And especially not when _you_ are near me…“ Mycroft whispered.

 

Lestrade had the same emotions again that had rushed through him so often in presence of the younger man. That he just wanted to pull him as close to him as possible. That he just wanted to… _kiss him._

 

Lestrade carefully placed his half empty glass on the table in front of the couch and when he sat back he tried to sit closer to the other man. Between their thighs were now just mere centimetres and he could feel the heat that radiated from the older Holmes.

 

Slowly he lifted his hand and let his fingers trail along Mycroft's cloth-covered leg. The feeling of Greg’s hand on his thigh sent shivers down the younger man’s spine and made his breathing become faster.

”This is something new for me too. But I think I know how we could probably deal with it…“ Lestrade said and softly put his mouth on the politician's. The last time their lips touched was only a few days ago, but for the DI it felt like ages. Greg slowly let his tongue dart out of his mouth and moved it over the younger man’s bottom lip. Mycroft parted his lips and allowed Lestrade's tongue exit to circle around his own. To let him plunder his mouth. To let him taste himself and become drunk by Greg’s scent as well.

 

The DI’s hands rested on Mycroft's waist and his thumbs drew little circles on the surface of his woollen jacket. In his opinion he was wearing far too many layers of clothing. How much did he want to feel the man’s bare skin under his palms? How soft would it feel?

 

”That’s an interesting idea. But I can’t deny that’s a good one,“ the younger man said while he loosened his lips from Greg’s. Around the corners of his mouth appeared a small smile. There it was again. _That smile_. The politician rested his head on Greg’s shoulder and Lestrade could smell the scent of the younger man and in this moment he couldn't imagine anything he wanted more than just to sit here with him.

 

Carefully, as if he would ask for permission, Lestrade brushed his fingers over Mycroft's upper leg and over his slightly hardened dick that lay underneath several layers of fabric. The younger man shivered and let out a ragged gasp. Did even this light touching turn him mad? ”Oh Mycroft, I feel exactly the same…“ Greg whispered, while playfully twitching the older Holmes’s bulge with his fore and middle finger.

 

”Gregory…“ he gasped quietly and rolled his hips. ”I…“

”Shhhh,“ the older man murmured and put a finger on the other’s mouth. ”We have all the time in the world.“

His eyes locked with the politician's and he placed a soft kiss on his heated cheek.


	4. I Wouldn't Want It Any Other Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally here is the last chapter :)  
> Which is also the reason for the Explicit Rating ;) The tags are updated now too.  
> Anyway thank you again for reading and enjoy the final chapter!

 

_It would be a pleasure for me if you’d come to my house for dinner at 7:30 pm. – M.H._

 

_I couldn't imagine something more enticing to spend my evening with. – G.L._

_Very well. – M.H._

 

 

Greg smiled when he placed his mobile back on the desk. Just two days passed since they’d met in his apartment and most of the time he’d thought of the younger man. They’d spent the remaining evening together on Lestrade's sofa and finally Mycroft went back to his home. Greg wanted nothing less than to rush anything. But if he was honest to himself, he knew what he wanted. That he finally wanted to brush his palms over the younger man’s naked skin. To feel him. To make him know what he felt when he was in his presence. _Maybe tonight._

 

<> 

 

The DI stepped closer to the door of Mycroft’s house. He remembered the last time he had been here. No. Definitely something he wouldn't think about now. Something he wouldn't think about _ever again._

 

Only seconds after he had pushed down the button of the doorbell, the wooden door was opened and Mycroft appeared in the frame. Today he was dressed into something, which for him could only be described as _casual_. An elegant white shirt and _of course_ tightly fitting black trousers, which accentuated his long legs.

”Hey,“ Greg murmured while closing the distance between them and putting his arms around Mycroft's waist. Almost without hesitation the younger man placed his lips on Lestrade's. _Tonight._

 

Their lips were still connected when the older Holmes pulled him into the hallway and shut the door with one hand. The fingers of his other hand still lingered on Greg’s waist and were slightly dug into the fabric of his jacket.

 

Greg slowly pulled Mycroft closer to his chest. He wanted to roam his hands over the other man’s bare skin. To feel every centimetre of his body underneath his palms. With nimble fingers he started to open up the buttons of Mycroft's shirt until parts of the man’s chest were revealed. Greg carefully let his fingers brush over the politician's soft skin and felt him shiver because of the light touching.

 

”Gregory,“ he whispered. As he heard his name that came out in ragged breaths, he abruptly stopped his movements. What did he think? Just a few days ago Mycroft had confessed to him that he didn't know how to deal with their relationship and now he was literally ripping off his clothes in the middle of the hallway. But the trail of Lestrade's thoughts was suddenly interrupted when Mycroft pressed himself against his body. The DI gasped when he felt the man’s arousal against his thigh. ”Well under this circumstances… I think dinner can wait,“ the older man whispered seductively, what made Mycroft willingly rub his hard cock along Greg’s leg.

 

”Where’s your bedroom?“

”Upstairs, second on the left,“ Mycroft said, his voice hoarse and full with lust. Lestrade managed to guide them both through the staircase and into the mentioned room. He softly pushed the younger man onto the bed and leaned himself over him to kiss him again. The DI let his tongue brush over the older Holmes’ lower lip and enjoyed the scent he could only describe as _Mycroft_.

 

Their erections rubbed against each other and even with several layers of clothing between them, the feeling was overwhelming for Greg. He got completely lost because of the knowledge that Mycroft wanted him as much as he wanted him. That he craved to feel him. That he bucked his hips up to get even closer to the older man.

 

Lestrade reluctantly separated their mouths and looked into Mycroft's dilated pupils. ”Are you sure that you want… you know.“

”Oh Gregory I have never been that sure for a long time,“ Mycroft murmured and grabbed Greg’s collar to pull him into another kiss.

 

The politician's fingers fumbled with the button of Greg’s trousers and when the younger man was able to open them, he teasingly slid his hand inside Lestrade's pants and squeezed his throbbing cock between his long fingers. The older man couldn't suppress a moan at the feeling.

 

With unsteady fingers he opened up Mycroft's trousers as well and cupped his erection with his palm. The younger man took a sharp breath at the sensation of Greg’s hand that was only one thin layer of clothing away from his cock.

 

Greg pulled down Mycroft's silk boxers until his throbbing cock sprung free, willingly leaking drops of precome. Lestrade swallowed. _Gorgeous._ Carefully he let one finger trail a line on the younger’s sensitive skin. Mycroft’s breathing increased audibly and he lifted his hips off the mattress, his fingers scratching over the blanket.

 

Encourage by how the older Holmes reacted to his light touching, Greg wrapped his whole fist around Mycroft's hard cock. How long did he want to get lost in this feeling? He let his thumb circle over the head of the younger man’s cock and spread the precome over the man’s heated skin.

 

He started to stroke his hand up and down Mycroft's length in slow teasing movements. He wanted this moment to last. To be something _special._

Greg’s own cock strained uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxer shorts and he wanted nothing more than to feel Mycroft's bare length against his own. He used his free hand to pull his erection out of his pants and gave it a few strokes.

 

He shifted his hips closer to the younger man and closed his hand around both of their cocks. Both men couldn't suppress moans escaping their mouths at the feeling of the oversensitive skin of their erections pressed together. Greg started moving his fist up and down relentlessly, making goose bumps appear on the younger man’s skin.

 

”Gregory…“ Mycroft gasped and bucked his hips to meet Lestrade's thrusts. ”I… I…“

Why did it turn on him so much to hear his given name out of his mouth?

”Come for me love,“ the older man whispered huskily into the politician's ear. The younger man gasped for air and while his limbs started to tremble, he shot his come over Greg’s hand and their stomachs. When Mycroft’s orgasm washed over him Greg gave them a few more thrusts until he came with a low guttural moan.

 

Greg loosened his hand from their now softening cocks and placed a soft kiss on Mycroft's lips. The younger man’s chest moved up and down in a fast rhythm, as he still tried to catch his breath. But when Lestrade's lips brushed over his, he couldn't suppress a smile from curling around the corners of his mouth.

 

”I’m just gonna get a towel…“ Greg said and wanted to climb out of the bed to make his way to the bathroom. But he was stopped when Mycroft grabbed his collar and pulled him back. The younger man moved Lestrade's fingers to his mouth and let his tongue lick along the older’s index finger, tasting his own and Greg’s semen. The DI groaned at the obscene sight he was presented with and pressed his lips onto Mycroft’s again, where he could taste the fading scent of them.

 

They were both still dressed almost completely. Only the buttons of Mycroft's shirt were opened up and revealed his pale chest. And of course their trousers were slid down a little bit, covered by patches of drying cum.

 

Greg opened up the last remaining buttons of Mycroft's shirt and slid it over his shoulders. ”Beautiful,“ the DI sighed and let his gaze move over the younger man’s now completely uncovered chest. Over the countless freckles, his rose nipples and the small trail of soft auburn hair that led down to…

 

Mycroft shivered as he felt Lestrade's eyes lingering on his body, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

”You don’t have to hide. Oh I want to lick over all of your freckles. I want to taste every centimetre of your gorgeous body,“ Greg said and lifted the older Holmes’ chin with his hand, so that he had to face him. Those eyes. _Those beautiful eyes._

 

Lestrade moved his thumb over Mycroft's lips and put his mouth on them again. From there he started to place soft kisses on the younger man’s neck and throat, trailing down over his chest, where he let his tongue circle around his hard nipples, teasing them with his teeth, until he left some more kisses on his stomach.

 

Greg hurried to open up his own shirt. He almost ripped off the last two buttons and finally tossed it onto the floor. His trousers joined his wrinkled shirt a few seconds later. Mycroft watched every one of Lestrade's movements, his lips parted. When Greg turned back to the younger man, he teasingly trailed his fingers over his skin and slid them into the waistband of his trousers to pull them down as well.

 

The DI took a deep breath when he was finally presented with Mycroft’s bare body. His pupils dilated and went even darker. Darker, with undeniable lust and need.

”Turn around,“ he ordered seductively. Mycroft did as he was told and laid down on the mattress, his backside directed upwards.

 

Lestrade brushed the tip of his fore finger over the younger man’s porcelain skin, feeling the shivers he received with it. When he reached Mycroft's arse, he let his thumbs massage the soft skin and finally used both of his palms to part his arsecheeks. The older man moved his body until his head was at the same height as the politician's hips.

 

Teasingly he let the tip of his tongue slide out of his mouth and licked over Mycroft's puckered hole. The younger man took a sharp breath and he shivered at the feeling of Lestrade's tongue in this region of his body.

 

Greg circled his tongue around and when he let it slip into the other man’s hole, he felt Mycroft's fingers digging into the silk sheets and his muscles convulsed around his tongue. Completely drunk by the man’s musky scent, Greg finally removed his tongue and instead pushed just the first centimetre of his forefinger into Mycroft.

 

”Shhhhh…“ Greg murmured, when he felt Mycroft's body stiffen because of the unusual intrusion. ”Relax…“ he whispered and turned the younger man’s head into his direction to look deep into his misty blue eyes.

 

Lestrade let his finger sink deeper into the younger’s body, always being careful not to hurt Mycroft. He moved the tip of his finger a little bit to brush it over the bundle of nerves inside the other man. He instantaneously realised when he had touched Mycroft's prostate, as the politician hissed and couldn't suppress a low moan.

Greg wanted to hear the younger man moan again. To overwhelm him with pleasure. To make him enjoy every touch and every move.

 

Carefully the DI added a second finger and pushed it into Mycroft's hole, until it was buried to the second knuckle. He slowly started to pull them out and thrust them in again, trying to hit the other’s prostate. Greg knew that he’d succeeded, when Mycroft’s breathing sped up and his fingernails scratched over the mattress.

 

After Greg had added a third finger, he decided that the younger man was ready now. Ready for _him_. His cock already stood upright, the tip almost touching his stomach. When he gave it a few loose thrusts, at the tip appeared a drop of leaking precome, which he spread along his length.

 

Lestrade reached for the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. There he found what he was looking for. He opened the bottle of lube and poured a good amount on his hand. With a few strokes he spread the lube along his hard cock. _Now._

He placed his legs left and right to Mycroft’s body. His erection was just mere centimetres away from the younger man’s puckered hole. Slowly he let just the head of his cock slide into Mycroft. He was immediately drunk by the tight feeling around him and he had to force himself not to relentlessly thrust into him.

 

Mycroft shivered and his eyes fluttered close, when he felt Greg moving inside him. The pain threatened to overwhelm him, but he tried not to focus on it. Instead he tried to think that it was _Gregory,_ who slowly slid inside him. That there were _Gregory’s_ arms on his back, scratching over his skin. _Gregory._

 

The stinging in his back faded away and was instead replaced by the want, the _need_ to feel more. To enjoy _more._ Mycroft bucked his hips up and when Greg felt this, he slid his cock completely into the younger man.

 

Their moans echoed in Mycroft’s large bedroom and the sound of their bodies clashing against each other seemed to fill it completely. It became even louder, the faster Lestrade started to thrust into the older Holmes.

 

Mycroft’s cock was trapped between his body and the mattress, rubbing relentlessly over the sheets, soaking them in precome. He felt himself coming even closer to his orgasm, when Lestrade hit the sweet spot inside him again. It was like electricity running through his veins.

 

The younger man gasped for air when he couldn’t hold it back any longer and his orgasm finally washed over him. He clenched his fingers into the blanket to get some hold and keep his whole body from shaking.

 

Greg felt Mycroft collapsing beneath him and increased his speed for one last time. The feeling of the politician's muscles convulsing around his cock sent him over the edge too. With a loud moan he pumped his come deep inside the other man.

 

Slowly he pulled his now softening dick out of Mycroft's arse and leaned himself back into the soft pillows. His breathing was still ragged and his face was covered with a thin layer of sweat. Bit when he let his gaze move to the younger man, he smirked, as Mycroft looked almost the same. Completely exhausted, but his blue eyes seemed to sparkle.

 

”That was… amazing Myc,“ Greg finally managed to say and placed a kiss on Mycroft's cheek. Normally Mycroft would have rebuked everybody, who didn't use his full name, but when Greg called him like this… he felt a warm feeling spreading inside him and wanted nothing more than this moment could last forever.

”I could stay like this forever,“ he finally managed to speak out loud.

”Me too, love. Me too,“ Greg whispered and pulled the younger man into a soft hug.

**Author's Note:**

> Many Thanks for reading! And thank you La for your help and your creative comments :)


End file.
